Here’s my ode to the pro wrestling of my childhood (OK, it’s really a study on identity but who’s analyzing!).

I saw an advertisement about an event with wrestling stars from the 80s, and I wondered how can they could still do it. They are at least my age. Recently, I hurt myself in my sleep. I’ve never been hit in the head by a metal folding chair but it is on my bucket list.

Call pro wrestling circus of the bizarre, freak show, extreme performance art, or choreographed sports-entertainment, but don’t call it fake.

Stop your eye-rolling if you enjoy only so-called legitimate sports from legitimate sources. Let’s not forget what the first letter of ESPN represents.

Now on with today’s entertainment:

– – – –

The Butcher

“The Butcher”

Abdullah announced to jeers

Madman from the Sudan

Parts Unknown enough for me

Larry Robert Shreve

To his Canadian family

Nobody named Larry sticks forks

In foreheads for a career

Ask Abdullah’s opponent

At the world’s first book festival wrestling match

(and maybe the last)

If those 46 stitches were fake

Sued for infecting wrestlers with hepatitis C

From sharing favorite fork or razor blade or barbed wire

Or soup can lid found in a trash can

Abdullah the Butcher is that real

If you still don’t believe in a non-fake life

Visit southwest Atlanta or Japan

And dine

At Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs and Chinese Food

Taste for yourself

If Chinese food in Japan is fake

It’s real food for real people

At reasonably real prices

We are all from Parts Unknown

Identity crafted performance perfected

And as fake as faces scarred by foreign objects

While the ref’s back is turned

– – – –